


deal with the devil

by soapyconnor



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: How They Met, idk what tlese to tag df
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-29 00:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12619440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soapyconnor/pseuds/soapyconnor
Summary: dice is going to lose his business, until someone comes in to save the day.





	deal with the devil

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!!!! second cuphead fic, and this is part of my nanowrimo thing. this wasn't beta'd. follow me on tumblr either @heggsys or @dicesheads

            King Dice sat at the bar, a cup of brandy on the counter in front of him. His hands cupped the glass, warming it, despite the fact it was already room temperature. His eyes were blank, and his shoulders slumped. The weight of the world had been on his shoulders and he had dropped it. He sniffed loudly, and rubbed at his eyes, downing the rest of his drink before he grabbed the bottle and poured himself another cupful.

            The casino was abandoned. He was the only living soul left in it. For a while it had been him and the bartender, but he had noticed the flame start to go out on the tender, so he sent him home. What was the point of him trying to stay, anyways? No one was coming. No one had come to the casino for a while. Keeping him here at this point was only wasting the bartender’s time. The tender should be looking for a new job, but he had refused too. He remained adamant that business would pick up.

            Dice couldn’t help but think that he was an idiot.

            He wiped at his eyes, and cursed himself for crying. _Why cry?_ He thought to himself. _This was your fault, you idiot. If you had done a better job of managing the damn joint . . ._

            Angrily, he downed his glass. He stared at the glass, and his head began to hurt. What was this, his forth . . . no . . . fifth cup? No, that was also wrong. It was way more than that. The entire bottle was nearly gone. That was way more then five cups . . .

            He was disappointed and angry with himself. His life’s work was crumbling around him, and all he could do was sit here and drink. This is all he ever wanted. He had his dream business after years of hard work, and he had fucked it all up. He had made some shitty business choices, and now his dream was crumbling.

            He heard the door open, and he didn’t bother to turn his head. As he poured himself another cup, he said, “Casino’s closed. Escort yourself out, please.”

            A loud, rumbling laughter came from the man. “Huh, that’s funny to me. A casino, closed? I must be in the Twilight Zone. You’ve run this place into the ground, haven’t you?”

            King Dice’s hand tightened around the cup. “Look, buddy, I’m not really in the mood. What the fuck do you want?” he asked, before he downed the drink, and slammed the glass against the counter. He turned and glared at the newcomer. The newcomer looked like an oversized, glorified goat if he was going to be honest. The cigar in between his lips just made him look like a giant douche. Before the man could respond, Dice flipped him the middle finger.

            “Now now, that’s no way to talk to the Devil, is it?” the glorified goat asked, and with small crook of his finger, the glass lifted from Dice’s hand before it smashed violently into the counter.

            The Devil’s words hadn’t quite registered yet, and King Dice shouted angrily, “Hey! You’re going to have to fuckin’ pay for that!”

            “Oh, dear Dice, I’ll pay for that and much more, if you’d like to make a deal,” the Devil responded, grinning like mad.

King Dice stared at him blankly, before he shook his head. How could he make a deal with the devil? That surely wasn’t going to work in his favor. If he did, he might lose more than his business . . .

“No? Hmrph. That’s fine then. I’ll just wait for you to declare bankruptcy and buy it right out from under you then. Then kick out all of your employees and you, leaving everyone without a job. You’ll have to watch the one thing you love become successfully under someone else’s guiding hand. I figured you wouldn’t want that, but I guess you’re the type of man to have too much pride . . .” The Devil mused, sucking in the air from his cigar and blowing it out in perfect rings. Dice watched him, gripping the counter. “I guess I’ll leave then. I doubt it’ll be much longer before you declare bankruptcy.” The Devil glanced around the casino. “No customers. No employees. You’re all alone. Is this how you want it all to end?”

“Perhaps. I would rather end it like this instead of fall into whatever malicious trick you want to play. I’m not into games.”

“You say you’re not into games, but that’s what your job is. Your livelihood required you to want to play games. Is that why you suck at your job?” The Devil asked, grinning madly. King Dice opened his mouth to respond, but his jaw promptly clamped shut. “You don’t want to make a deal with me because of you’re afraid of the trick I might play, but don’t you think you do the same? Customers are naïve. They come in thinking that the odds are going to be in their favor, but they never are. _You_ put the odds against them. You allow a few people to win once or twice to get your customers hopes up. You want them to believe they have a chance despite the fact the cards are always stacked against them. You and I are not different. We’re the same man, one and the same. You just fail to see it because you run a business and is your livelihood.”

King Dice’s shoulders slumped, and he fell back into his chair. He brushed the glass shards off of the counter. “What do you want?” he asked, voice cracking a bit.

“All I want to do is buy your casino.”

King Dice stared at him, his eyes growing blank again. “That can’t be the only thing you want,” he said, voice bitter and cold.

“Of _course_ not! I’ll keep your employees employed here as long as you work as the manager. I mean, that’s a given. I know you would do a great job running a casino if you had a heavy backer like me . . . and . . . hm . . . Oh, there might be one more thing—”

“Spit it out! I don’t want to wait any longer. Christ, you’ve already wasted enough of my time.”

The Devil frowned. He didn’t seem too big of a fan of the fact that Dice wouldn’t crumble under his thumb. “I make a bet occasionally with the patrons, and if they lose—which they most surely will—we get their soul.”

King Dice scoffed. “You want to run a soul collecting business?”

“No. I want to run a casino. The soul collecting will just be a bonus. Hell’s kind of boring, mate. I would like to replenish my stock of souls. After a while, they get released, you know? Paid their time, served their sentence. Now I gotta collect more,” the Devil said, walking towards King Dice.

            Dice shifted awkwardly away. “So that’s the deal? You save my casino, but I help you bring innocent souls to help?”

            “Gambling’s a sin, lad. They’re not innocent.”

            Dice swallowed hard, and he adjusted his necktie. He pulled it loose, and it hung limply around his neck. “Okay. Fine. Deal,” he murmured tiredly, although a part of him was unconvinced.

            The Devil grinned madly, and held out his hand. “Let’s shake on it, then.”

            King Dice took his hand, and shook it. He felt fire race up his arm, causing his back to tense. He swallowed harshly, as felt regret piling up in his gut.

 

 

            King Dice watched as the porcelain brothers ran out of the casino. The Devil sat in his chair, a wide grin on his face. While King Dice shared the same look, something felt . . . different. It had been over a decade since he had made a literal deal with the Devil, and they’ve been in many situations like this before. But now, something was wrong. Cuphead and his brother may cause them more trouble than it was worth.

            The Devil rose from his chair, and cocked his head to the side. King Dice took the hint, and followed him to his office. He stood obediently by the door was the Devil slouched in a chair. “Oh boy, we really did it this time! We’re getting those boys to do all the work for us! For _free_! In the end, I’ll either take their souls or have them doing this for us! Fuck, Dice, I’m so brilliant, aren’t I? C’mere.”

            King Dice sighed, and walked over to him. The Devil pulled him into his lap, his hands caressing his hips. “Woohoo,” King Dice murmured, although he sounded less than enthused.”

            “Dicey? Are you okay?”

            “Hm? I’m fine.”

            “Are you sure? You don’t sound too excited.”

            Pressing his forehead against the Devil’s. “I’m sorry. It’s nice that we’re finally going to get those debtor’s souls, but this feels a lot different than usual . . .” He then leaned back. “I’m worried those porcelain brothers are going to be a lot more trouble then they’re worth.”

            The Devil chuckled. “Don’t worry, Dice,” the Devil said, rubbing his face against his chest. “Everything will be okay.”

            Nevertheless, King Dice worried.


End file.
